We’ve relied largely upon our own grit and hard work to get us this far, just as we will rely on it on to get us through the long days and miles ahead.

–excerpt from the Braking Boundaries Mission Statement

The dark eyes looked up at me from behind a scraggly mess of steel-grey hair. The gnarly knuckles and thick, leathery fingers made a feeble attempt to straighten the wilting cardboard.

–Have you got change to spare?

What should have been a scene set to inspire the kind of heartfelt sympathy that moves mountains, merely triggered a wave of self-loathing and despair. I shuddered to think that, at twenty-nine, I had more in common with this disconsolate figure, than I’d like to admit. Was it possible that I was the same woman who had, just under a year ago set off to cycle the breadth of Eurasia? Every fiber in my body wanted to say:

Scoot over buddy. I’m homeless and unemployed too. What do you say I hold your sign and we split the profits?

But, instead, I reached into my wallet and handed over my last dollar bill. Because, while on paper I am, quite literally, a wanderluster turned broke vagaboner, I am not really pedaling unsupported, so to speak. In spite of my fractured finances and professional foibles, I’ve somehow managed to hang onto my two greatest assets: remarkably supportive friends and an infinitely fabulous family. And while the curmudgeon-of-a-Yankee in me continues to cling stubbornly to this hereditary propensity to extol self-reliance, I know that, as some really smart dude whose name I can’t remember said yonkers ago, No man is an island.

On this, the one year anniversary of Braking Boundaries’ epic adventure some 14,000 plus kilometers from Beijing to London, I’m particularly aware of how all people, regardless of their socioeconomic or cultural histories, are bound together by the simple quality of being human. And it is this humanity that, indeed, breaks boundaries.

Yes, the trip took grit and gumption. It took determination and teamwork. But, in spite of the fact that we did all the ‘legwork’ ourselves, there were many helping hands along the way.

It would take a dozen newsletters to outline all the random acts of kindness we received en route, but suffice to say that there was a string of them stretching from Beijing to London. From the slightly-ridiculous but assuredly-helpful police escort in China to the man who’s trailer sheltered us from a storm in the mountains of Kosovo, we were almost daily surprised by the selflessness of complete strangers.

Our night in a caravan

Our journey seemed to inspire them, and their capacity for often-unsolicited generosity provided the inspirational impetus that propelled us forward, through the good and the bad.

As a general rule of thumb, our more uplifting memories were born out of less than ideal circumstances. On the very day that unrelenting headwinds and desert sun drove me to denounce my teammates in a maelstrom of frustration, we met Xiao. A fellow bike-enthusiast turned adventurer this Chinese national was in the process of circumnavigating his homeland. His can-do attitude and oversized heart provided a much needed boost to our sagging spirits. In the month to come his mantra, “It’s Okay!” would sustain us through visa delays, heat stroke, man-eating spiders, and general malaise.

A true friend that we miss dearly : Xiao

In the spirit of all those who helped us along the way, I thought it apropos to update everyone on the KIVA loans you so selflessly helped support with your donations. In all, 53 individuals worldwide were able to achieve their entrepreneurial dreams thanks to you. You can check out a complete list of these individuals and their stories at:

http://www.kiva.org/community/teams/view/loans?team_id=1199

People have often referred to my trip as incredible, unbelievable, or amazing. It was, in fact, all of those things. And I have spent the greater part of my post-trip days contemplating why such an ostensibly life-changing experience was in many ways, not life changing at all. I am for all intents and purposes the same woman who hopped on her bike all those months and miles ago. I had no great epiphany on the road. I don’t visit elementary schools tooting my own horn and spouting Oprah-style inspirational speeches.

I have, at times, been dogged by the perplexingly anti-climatic nature of the journey. After 187 days and 21 hours of self-examination, where was my life changing lightening strike that would clarify my earthly existence? Should I have turned off the iPod and tuned into more lofty musings?

I’ve realized, however, that some ‘aha’ moments are more practical than profound. Using a Chinese squatter after 8 hours of cycling, for example, led me to exalt the genius of toilet seats. Fourteen consecutive days of cycling sans a shower revealed the convenient power of indoor plumbing. The meaningless banter between teammates at the end of a long day illuminated the comforting importance of good company. And the simple act of opening one’s heart and home to complete strangers spoke to my enduring belief (hope?) that sometimes the smallest acts leave the greatest impression.

And so, while the trip wasn’t necessarily life changing, I realized how easily individual actions can change lives. In a country that, until recently, was largely racing at breakneck speed towards bigger homes, flashier cars, and trendier clothes, it’s illuminating to realize:

True success isn’t measured by the amount of money you make, or number of mountains you’ve climbed; it’s all about being thankful for what you have, and using it to help others. Because, bum or businessman, what goes around comes around:

I hit a wall today. I’ve hammered out 9,000 kilometers up this point, but for some reason the thought of just 300 more to a much-needed rest in Istanbul nearly broke me.

And then, we met the Spaniard and his sidekick from Chicago.

We chatted for a while—the four of us engaged in the entertaining but sometimes monotonous pleasantries of typical ‘travel talk’: Where are you from? What are you doing here? Etc.

When the Spaniard quietly disclosed that they’d walked from Spain, I was stunned. What a feat! Twenty minutes ago, I could barely fathom cycling another 300 kilometers and these wise-guys had walked that very route! All I could muster in response was, “That’s ridiculous!”

Ever the diplomat, Tom patted my back, and with a cocked smile said,

“What my friend meant to say, is that’s amazing!”

And he was right. It truly was amazing. I was dumbstruck. And, profoundly thankful that I, being slightly more pragmatic than these two clowns, had chosen to bicycle rather than bi-pedal my way across the Eurasian landmass. Suddenly, the 300 kilometers to Istanbul seemed surmountable.

Seeing that they carried nothing except the clothes on their backs, we asked them what they did for food and shelter. They told us that they just find a town or village and knock on people’s doors. When I asked them what happened if they didn’t stumble across such places, or if they were turned away they just shrugged and nonchalantly said they’d always managed to find someone, somewhere. And that they’d never been turned away.

Things just have a way of working out, they said.

Just before we parted ways, Jared rifled through his bag and handed them a pack of biscuits. Having just informed them that the nearest town was still a day’s journey away on foot, he thought they might need some sustenance.

Reaching for the packet, the Spaniard started to chuckle a bit, and when I asked him what was so funny, he said:

About 5 kilometers back, we were talking about how hungry we were and what we wouldn’t give for some cookies.

At this, I couldn’t help but smile: They got their cookies, and I got my inspiration to keep on truckin’ to Istanbul.

Things do have a way of working out.
Pay it forward.

Finally after countless hours sorting, turning and cropping I am proud to say that the best photos from all 3 cameras are now online including Tom’s photos from his solo adventure as he took the Northwestern European route while we went West.

Countries that have been added to the sites collection include Azerbaijan, Georgia, Turkey, (and the amazing Cappidocia) Albania, Croatia Switzerland and the rest of our European adventures.

There are even more albums of our latest adventures can be found in the photo album section of the Baking Boundaries website.

Enjoy,
Jared, Tom & Katie

It was sad to say goodbye to friends in Istanbul. Tom had left a day earlier on a mission to conquer Europe by himself and now Katie and I were leaving the much loved German after having had a great time on Thorsten tours. But the show must go on despite our team of 4 only sporting 2 of the starting line up.

Katie and I rolled out of Istanbul just before midday braving some of the heaviest traffic yet but that was nothing compared to what would follow in the next 24 hours.

As usual we started to look for a place to wild camp around about sunset and seeing as we were riding along the sea what better place to spend the night than camping on a beach near the town of Gümüşyaka.

As the evening progressed the wind picked up and looking out toward the sea we knew it was going to be a rough one, but a little wind and rain was not going to spoil our beautiful beach campsite.

Man was I wrong…. Listening to my audio diary of that night reminded me of just how loud the rain was, so much so that I gave up spoiling story time.

Story time?

Most nights I would do an audio recording of what had happened and how I felt. This had become a ritual and Tom, Katie and Thorsten would listen and write their dairies at the same time, to the point that Katie would be disappointed when I was too tired to do one. Still it was only rain and we had been in thunderstorms before.

Fast forward to the next morning and it was still raining and seeing as we had only managed a few hours sleep that night we decided to sleep for a couple more hours hoping that the weather would clear. Looking back it is hard to say whether this decision either caused a lot of grief or saved us from a worse fate, but not more than an hour later I was awoken by katie yelling:

“Jared, grab my stuff, it’s floating past your tent, we are being flooded!”

As I jumped into action the bottom of my tent felt like a water bed . “What the hell was going on?” were my first thoughts. As I grabbed my trusty crocks and got out of my tent I looked in disbelief as the nice beach that we had set up on the night before had turned into a raging river. Thankfully as we scrambled to get our gear, the water flow cut into the sand and out to sea.

OK, no biggie right? Except that the path off the beach was now a river. We ended up pushing our fully laden bikes along the beach and around cliffs to find a way up.

After about 45 minutes later with our bikes and gear now caked with sand we managed to find some stairs to a road. Of course what better time than in the pouring rain, covered in sand, would it be for Katie to have a flat tire. Never has the saying “when it rains it pours” been so applicable to a situation. Her only option was to “pump and ride,” in other words put a little air into it and find the nearest gas station for some shelter to fix the puncture.

As Katie fixed her tire and I proceeded to wash the sand out of our tents the weather continued to get worse, so much so that at times I couldn’t see more than 5 meters ahead.

By this time we had become totally disheartened with our start to the European leg, but despite the urge to keep going so we wouldn’t loose a days riding, our sensible sides kicked in and we called it a day traveling a mere 1.5km – the shortest day on record

Luckily for us there was a hotel beside the gas station so we proceeded to turn our room into a huge drying room and shortly after pass out from exhaustion.

Later that evening we ventured out into the crappy weather passing a group of Turkish men watching TV. The news was showing the devastation of flooding in the area. The men explained to us that the roads to Istanbul had been washed out just 20 km back and there had been deaths in towns nearby due to flash flooding.

Footage broadcast on television showed large parts of the Silivri shore inundated as flood waters gushing into the sea where cars were clearly visible among moored boats. It’s hard to explain how I felt at the time knowing that had we stopped just 20k’s early or continued on that day things could have been a lot worse. Full News Report

(Katie is back in the US, Tom is in Ireland, David is in South Africa, Thorsten is in Germany somewhere and I’m back in New Zealand)

Sure it’s great to be home spending some much needed time with family, enjoying great food, hanging with my little brothers and technically still having a vacation, but there remains a sense of emptiness to daily life.

Gone is the early morning routine of trying subtlety wake up Katie without having her go nuclear, or the evening ritual of setting up camp in strange places, cooking delicious pasta and falling asleep to Tom laughing as he watches Father Ted in his tent.

Gone are the offers of a wonderful picnic breakfast in the middle of nowhere followed by early morning shot of moonshine anymore?

And where is the Turkish man at the gas station who sits down and plays his instrument just for us?

I guess for now “normalville” is my home and the voices in my head that are saying “India, that sounds like an interesting place” will have to wait just a little while longer as…..

it’s time to write.

Stay tuned as the Braking Boundaries website is coming back to life with more stories from the road and adventures of other travelers that we met along our travels

Katie and I pose for our last photo in our worn out clothes after completing 14,000 km

While we had completed our goal of making it to the UK, Katie and I both agreed that a sense of closure was missing from our trip and reuniting our teamie Tom who had left us in Istanbul for a faster route through Europe was needed. He was greatly missed and often talked about as we traversed mountains in Kosovo and played in the Swiss Alps It seemed only right that we meet up one last time before the 3 of us departed for different lives and countries.

So off to Ireland we went. Katie by car with her parents who had come over to the UK to meet her at the end of the trip and me on a £10.99 return flight to Belfast that I had managed to book a few weeks in advance.

It wasn’t until we were all sitting around at Tom’s house in Maghera, Northern Ireland watching videos of the adventure and recalling stories for Katie and Tom’s parents that it really felt like our time as “Team BB” had come to an end, and what a better way to do it.

Together again in Maghera Ireland getting our photos taken for an Irish newspaper

Now that goodbyes have been said you may wondering what is next for the three slightly insane cyclists that left South Korea six months ago on a mission to have an adventure of a lifetime.

Tom is heading back to South Korea this week with plans to live in Bucheon, but I think the only real thing on his mind right now is Ruth his lovely and very patient girlfriend.

Katie, after traveling around the UK is heading back to the U.S where I am sure she will dream up yet another adventure.

As for myself. It has been a week since I last rode a fully loaded bike and serious withdrawals are setting in. The lifestyle of living from day to day, not knowing what adventure lies around the corner is a life I am not quite willing to let go of yet, so planning new adventures is high on my list of things to do. For now however I too am returning to South Korea for a couple of weeks to see friends before taking some time out to visit my family in New Zealand and have a much needed summer Xmas and New Years.

As for Braking Boundaries the website, life goes on. There are still a lot of adventures and stories still to be written about, as well as photos and videos that have yet to be posted, so if you have been a fan of following our adventure stay tuned, more stories from the road are still on the way.

Also with the thousands of photos, hundreds of videos and my own personal audio diary I plan to start a complete day-by-day write-up of the adventure that took us through 21 countries, over mountain passes as high as 3000 meters and desert heats that could fry an egg.

Until then, stay tuned……

Jared

From Saturday’s News Letter:

Jared and Katie seem to have had the lion’s share of adventure. Since leaving Turkey they have, amongst other things, survived being swept out to sea by floods, discussed communism a caravan in Kosovo, had tea in an Albanian bunker, conquered the mighty Alps (three 2,000-metre passes in two days), and edured miserable weather across France before arriving in London on the 15th.

I feel a bit boring by comparison. Following my solo sprint across Europe and England, I got home on the 4th and have been readjusting to life indoors over the last fortnight. After so many nights in fields and forests, sleeping in an actual bed seems almost too comfortable. Home cooking, on the other hand, is being eaten with great joy and requests for seconds.

Expect lots of stories over the coming weeks, filling in the blanks and keeping you enthralled. For those who lack patience, photos are already available on our Facebook pages.

The guys are flying/driving over to Northern Ireland next week for a catch-up session (I’ve been instructed by Ruth not to say “debriefing” as it sounds too formal and technical. In fact, I was only using it to avoid saying “piss-up”.).

Vardzia was definitely a highlight to our Georgian Experience.